Demons
by Reagan
Summary: Face's not fond of the idea of going back to prison.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Demons  
Author: Reagan moniker11@bigfoot.com  
Rating: Mostly PG-15, but the last part is R so we'll call the whole thing R  
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the A-Team or Face and Hannibal in particular. They belong  
to Stephen J. Cannell, and I am not trying to infringe on his ownership. No money is being made  
here, although the settings and plot are mine. Just ask if you wish to play.  
Warnings: Adult language and childhood drama ahead. I don't want to tell all, but if prison or  
teenage angst bothers you don't read.  
Feedback: Makes my cyberworld spin and would make my day.  
  
  
  
The apartment was completely dark as Hannibal stepped through the door. The darkness outside  
didn't help illuminate the interior either. He had tried calling for the last hour, eventually giving  
up and driving over to the young lieutenant's new abode. It was still relatively early and he  
couldn't imagine Face asleep just yet.  
  
"Face?" Hannibal called out softly, not wanting to startle the kid if he just hadn't been answering  
the phone. When he received no response, he began to really worry. While there were plenty of  
reasons why the kid wouldn't be here on a Tuesday night but, Face rarely went out without his  
car. He had once cataloged the virtues of his corvette in picking up women and thus rarely left  
home without it. Still there was no obvious reason to worry, but Hannibal couldn't help himself.   
Face had been really quiet after his disastrous encounter with Decker. The kid hadn't given him  
all the details but from his haggard appearance and cut up wrists from handcuffs that had been put  
on too tight, something had happened. And Hannibal hated not knowing. So instead of brooding  
over whatever had happened he decided to come over and well, basically interrogate Face until he  
heard the whole story.  
  
The older man moved cautiously throughout the condominium reluctant to turn on the lights  
himself. Eventually he noticed the billowing of the curtain which hid the sliding glass door to the  
balcony. Hannibal was perplexed, Face should have heard him come in and certainly heard his  
name being called out. He pulled the curtain aside sticking his head out the door to see if he was  
out there.  
  
Bathed in moonlight Face was sitting at the table looking out at the ocean. He seemed oblivious  
to everything around him except the cigarette burning in his hand and the glass of scotch clutched  
in his other hand. Hannibal didn't say anything for a minute just watching as Face took a long  
drag, then finish off the remains of his scotch and poor another mouthful from the bottle sitting on  
the table. Watching a contemplative Face made the colonel uneasy. It wasn't something he was  
used to and reaffirmed that something had definitely happened with Decker.  
  
"Face?" Hannibal called out softly again from the doorway trying not to startle the young man.   
There was still no response as he took another drag. Now Smith was truly concerned. He moved  
out onto the balcony stopping less than two feet from the conman who had yet to acknowledge  
his presence. Reaching out to touch his shoulder he called, "Hey kid, you alright?"  
  
It was an instantaneous reaction, an instinct born of years spent being on guard. He had twisted  
Hannibal's hand and pulled out his .357 before even realizing who had touched him.  
  
"Hey Face it's me!" It took what seemed several beats for Face to focus on who was actually  
before him. "Jesus kid! Don't break my wrist."  
  
Hannibal had turned with him trying to decrease the pressure on his wrist while not moving too  
suddenly because of the pistol aimed at his heart. Face finally blinked out of wherever he was to  
find an astonished, not to mention worried and angry commander in front of him. It was a  
complete surprise to find his hand gripping Hannibal's and his gun pointed at the silver haired  
man.  
  
Blowing out a shaky breath, "Geez, Hannibal don't you know better than to sneak up on me?   
That's a good way to get yourself killed." Releasing his hold, Face bent to pick up his dropped  
cigarette taking a deep drag in an almost vain attempt to calm his frazzled nerves.  
  
"Christ kid! Didn't you hear me call your name or your phone ring for the past hour? Sneak up  
on you? I coulda been yelling at the top of my lungs for all you woulda noticed. Where were  
you?" Hannibal exclaimed gingerly rubbing his wrist and shoulder.  
  
Face sat back down in his chair gesturing to the one next to him for Hannibal. Putting the gun  
back in his holster he shrugged. "Just thinking...about stuff. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did  
I?" He asked contritely.  
  
Waving away the inquiry. "Nah, I'm fine, you just caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting to  
have to defend myself while visiting." Raising an eyebrow, in a clear I'm not buying your lame  
excuse movement, "Stuff huh? Why don't you tell me what's really going on in your head?"  
  
He waved his hand trying to brush off the question. "Nothing important." Jerking his head  
toward the bottle, "You want a glass?"  
  
Peering at the label of expensive scotch, Hannibal nodded his head in approval. "Yeah, thanks."  
  
Templeton rose from the table heading inside to grab another glass, reemerging a minute later  
with another tumbler and clean ashtray. Hannibal had a cigar lit before the lieutenant sat back  
down. They were silent for a minute each absorbed in the beauty of the night and peacefulness of  
the waves rolling onto the shore.  
  
"So what brings you by?"  
  
"You. You were pretty quiet after escaping from Decker. I want to know what happened. I  
tried to call but you're not answering so I came over to find you so wrapped up in your thoughts  
that you almost broke my arm when I touched your shoulder. What's going on kid? And don't  
insult my intelligence by saying it's nothing. That's evidently not the case." The stormy blue eyes  
bored into the young man, demanding answers. 


	2. Chapter 2

Sighing, "I really don't want to talk about it." At Hannibal's glare he reluctantly continued,   
"Decker and I literally ran into each other on the street. He chased me into an alley practically  
launching himself at me, which knocked us into a wall. I must of hit my head and passed out  
because the next thing I know is that I'm face down on the ground, handcuffed. He was on his  
walkie-talkie requesting a car and backup. He wasn't looking at me. I don't think he expected  
me to wake up soon. So I rolled over pulling my legs up to maneuver my cuffed hands from  
behind my back to in front of me again. I saw my .357 stuffed in the back of his pants. It was  
unbelievable. I walked up right behind him grabbing my gun and cocking it right behind his ear."  
  
"Oh man Hannibal, you should have seen his face." Laughing, "He was livid, at himself, at me,  
hell he was cursing you and your influence on me, like I wouldn't have pulled the gun on him on  
my own. It was hysterical. A few minutes later I had uncuffed myself, taken his gun and made  
him put on his own cuffs, conveniently attached to the nearby dumpster. I knew I didn't have  
much time to get away before reinforcements arrived but I couldn't help taunting him. I mean he  
was begging for it." Shrugging again like it was no big deal, "I took off and met up with you  
guys. My only regret is not having a picture of his face."  
  
Laughing at the picture he presented. "I can just imagine, but kid if it was no big thing, then why  
are you out here brooding?"  
  
Raising an eyebrow, "Brooding?"  
  
Glaring at the obfuscation, "Yes brooding. Expensive scotch isn't your first drink of choice and  
you don't normally smoke. Not to mention that you had no clue I was here when I called your  
name. You're apparently focused on something, what is it?"  
  
"Hannibal..." He spoke the name like a plea.  
  
"No way kid. I'm not going to let this go. Talk to me." Smith was firm in his command drinking  
down his scotch and refilling the glass.  
  
Sighing Face ran a hand through his hair as though it would somehow bring the words to the  
surface. "Today was the first day I really realized how serious Decker is about putting us in jail  
for the next twenty years. I mean, yeah sure I always knew he wanted to catch us and what  
would happen if he did, but this...when he was looking at me and cursing, hell everything, it was  
personal. He's determined to see me rot in prison for the rest of my life if he has his way. Today  
just intensified that. I don't think about it a lot, ya know? It's just...the army's chasing us, so  
what. But today when I felt those cuffs on me and later when Decker swore, come hell or high  
water, he'd see me in jail. It was real, in a way it hasn't been since Fort Bragg. So I've been  
thinking about how close I ended up back in jail tonight."  
  
Face involuntarily shuddered at the thought. "I can't do twenty years, Hannibal. You remember  
how I was. The only reason I didn't lose it completely was because I knew you had a plan to  
escape so I played it cool and we were out of there in less than a month." Taking the last drag of  
his second cigarette since Hannibal's arrival he shrugged, "It just became to real a possibility  
today."  
  
"You know that I would never let you rot in prison for twenty years, right?" Hannibal tried to  
reassure the shaken lieutenant.  
  
"I know, but I'd also never forgive myself is something were to happen to you, BA, or Murdock  
trying to get me out." Quietly under his breath as he took another swallow of scotch. "Besides I  
don't know if I'd last that long."  
  
Hannibal rocked back in his chair surprised. "Whoa, where did that come from?"  
  
Face looked at him funny, "What do you mean?"  
  
Incredulous, "You don't know if you'd last that long? The hell does that mean?"  
  
Peck's head jerked up in shock, not realizing that he uttered those words aloud. It took a second  
to school his features before he replied. Waving his hand to blow the gaffe off, "Nothing  
Hannibal, I didn't mean anything."  
  
Angry at being deliberately lied to. "Bullshit. Don't feed me that crap kid. Obviously the  
thought of prison bothers you. That's understandable. I'm not to fond of the idea of spending  
twenty years behind bars either, but for you it seems different. You're right, I do remember how  
edgy you were at Fort Bragg. In fact there were a couple of times I didn't think there was  
anything I could say to reign you in or those two days where you were so far inside your head I  
wasn't sure you'd ever come out again. What is it about prison that spooks you so bad? You're  
not cloustrophobic and this is nothing like Chao's camp. Why wouldn't you last that long?"  
  
Face mentally berated himself for letting his fear of prison slip. He really didn't want to explain  
the reasons for it. "Colonel, let's just leave it at I don't like prison and move on." The stubborn  
set to his jaw was noticably visible.  
  
Rubbing his own hand across his face, Hannibal attempted to hide his now peaked curiosity. He  
took a deep drag in order to give him a moment to choose the best words for his argument.   
"Face, I'd love to leave this alone. It just seems to me that you're the one who can't. The  
smoking, drinking, and the fact that you're out here brooding are all signs that it's you that can't  
let go. There's something here that's bothering you and I can't take the chance that if sometime  
in the future we end up in jail, even if only temporarily that this won't effect you. I can't  
concentrate on getting us out if I'm worried about you. Did something happen at Fort Bragg that  
I don't know about?"  
  
Shaking his head, still hoping to sidestep Hannibal's question. "No, nothing happened at Fort  
Bragg. We shared a cell together, I couldn't even go to the bathroom without you knowing." He  
gave a rueful grin at waking the colonel that one night he had gotten the runs from dinner.  
  
Smith wasn't to be deterred though he mentally chuckled at the memory. Still the concern and  
frustration with his lieutenant wasn't abated. "I remember, but can we stop with the twenty  
questions and you just tell me whatever it is?"  
  
"Let it go Hannibal." Face reached for the bottle to refill his glass but was stopped by a forceful  
grasp on his arm by the older man.  
  
His blue eyes were like the hottest fire, burning with ferocity into the conman. "No. You're not  
going to get drunk and pass out on me. I'm not going to let you blow this off, as I know you will  
in the light of day tomorrow, blaming the drinking for your maudlin mood. There's a hell of a lot  
more to it and we both know it. We're a team kid. That means we help each other out, no matter  
what. I thought you knew that you could trust me with anything. Don't lie like there's nothing  
going on and don't insult me by pretending everything's okay. It's not. You are not. So let's  
stop with the evasions."  
  
Face couldn't look at him. He'd never dealt with the colonel's anger or disappointment well.   
This time was no different, especially since he didn't want to speak about it at all. Praying that  
he'd be let off the hook. "Some things are better left in the past." Bowing his head as though  
pushed down by a great weight. "Please Hannibal..." 


	3. Chapter 3

John Smith was expecting one of several scenarios to his order but this wasn't one of them. Face  
was practically despondent at the thought of sharing this "thing" as he had come to think of it. He  
also didn't remember the last time his lieutenant couldn't look him in the eye. This is huge, he  
thinks and has grown from concern to fear in his own mind. Now he had to know, for the sake of  
their relationship and interaction with the team. Would Face ever look him in the eye again?   
Could he ever trust his second in command completely and without reservation in the future?   
Would this secret cast a pall over their relationship forever? Hannibal felt a chill sliver down his  
spine at that thought. They were as close as any two men could be. Implicitly trusting in the  
other man to be there no matter what. And there was no way Colonel John Smith was going to  
let that go because of some demon haunting the kid's past. To back off would concede that.  
  
Placing the dying cigar butt in the ashtray, Hannibal stretched his hand out to grip the side of  
Peck's head, his fingers resting in the short hairs on his neck. He spoke quietly, when the young  
man's eyes met his. "Face we've been through everything together in over fourteen years of  
friendship. I would go through the very gates of hell to watch your back if you asked me to.   
There is absolutely nothing you could tell me that would change how I feel about you. But  
this...kid if we drop this, there will always be a barrier between us. It wouldn't be intentional. I  
know that, but I'll always wonder if you've shared everything and you'll question whether you  
really can tell me everything. I won't let that happen. I won't let there be these silences, these  
doubts between us. Telling me may not change anything, but you don't have to go through it  
alone. Please kid, believe in me, in us."  
  
Face felt his mouth go dry. He could almost tangibly feel the intensity radiate from the man next  
to him. Hannibal wasn't an emotional guy. Yeah, he often displayed anger, disgust, or a strange  
sense of humor but this... Face knew his commander would go to the mat for his guys. His  
reputation for protecting his men was legendary, but this was different. They had never had a  
conversation about their friendship. Its nuances had always been understood or so Face thought.   
To watch Hannibal view this secret as an affront to that relationship, and his subsequent reaction,   
confounded the younger man. He did trust Hannibal with his life, but he evidently didn't fully  
understand the reciprocal devotion the older man felt as well. Face wondered if the Earth had  
flipped upside down or if he had never really considered Hannibal's viewpoint before.  
  
He had been a well known troublemaker at the base in Vietnam. Liked by his fellow soldiers for  
an uncanny ability to procure nearly anything, he was despised by his commander and most of the  
other officers. His smartass mouth resulted in Colonel Bennington sending him on several  
dangerous missions in the hope that the North Vietnamese would take care of the problem.   
That's eventually how he had met Colonel John Smith. His unit was short a couple of men, who  
were laid up in the base hospital. That didn't matter as he had a mission to complete and thus was  
loaned some temps to finish the job. Face's CO was more than happy to foist the aggravating  
Lieutenant Peck into Smith's custody. The kid had no concern for his own personal safety, but  
had taken care of his platoon and displayed amazing skills at the point and with his sniper rifle.   
Hannibal's interest had been peaked. Two days after returning to base he found a box of Cuban  
cigars and a bottle of scotch along with a note thanking him for an unbelievable story to tell at a  
bar someday. Hannibal immediately sought him out. The two shared the bottle, a couple of  
cigars and a get acquainted dinner. The next day Face, as BA had christened him, was officially  
transferred to Smith's unit.  
  
Staring into Hannibal's eyes he saw the deep abiding affection war with genuine concern about  
how this silence would affect their friendship. Swallowing, "I...I've never told another living soul  
this. I don't know if I can." It was a last ditch plea. Desperate eyes searching for an escape from  
the corner he felt trapped in.  
  
Hannibal released his hold of Face's arm on the table bringing that hand up to gently run it  
through Face's hair in what he hoped was a calming, affection laden motion. This had escalated  
well beyond alarm. The kid needed to talk. There was no question of that, but he couldn't force  
him and he didn't want to guilt him into it, which might make him resentful later. John felt  
himself walking a fine line, where one misstep could ruin everything. "It's going to be okay.   
Start at the beginning or wherever you're comfortable and we'll figure it out from there, alright?   
You just remember that nothing is going to change between us. I promise."  
  
Face dropped his head, searching the ground for the right words. Hannibal squeezed his neck, in  
what he hoped was a reassuring manner, before dropping his hands and lighting another cigar. He  
wanted to give the kid the space he needed, while the cigar would help center himself. Peck  
didn't meet his gaze as he fumbled with the pack of cigarettes, taking a deep drag while lighting it.   
They were silent as Face poured more scotch into each of their tumblers, swallowing another pull  
himself before setting the glass back down. "I did six months at juvie hall when I was fifteen."  
  
The quiet contemplative voice carried more than enough. He finally looked up to see Hannibal's  
eyebrows reach for his hairline at that surprising admission. Considering the kid's skills and  
behavior tonight he shouldn't have been shocked, but he was. There was an unspoken  
encouragement to continue.  
  
"I was what they like to label high risk at the orphanage. Nobody adopted teenagers who were  
life long orphans. I was always getting into trouble of one kind or another: mouthing off, chasing  
girls, breaking curfew. There was a group of us, four guys who had been in the orphanage for as  
long as we could remember. I was going to public school at the time and we hung out with other  
kids who didn't fit in. I had learned to pick locks and hot-wire a car during my freshman year. I  
practiced those skills whenever I had a chance. I was also the only one who could pick a pocket,  
so we could have money for lunch off campus instead of the lousy cafeteria. Brad was seventeen  
and had a friend who worked at a liquor store. That day we left a car by the loading dock with  
the keys under the front seat and walked around of couple of the shops nearby. Half an hour later  
we came back to find the keys in the same place but with a couple cases of beer and a bottle of  
whiskey in the trunk."  
  
"It was Friday night and we went out to the beach here in Malibu. In fact it's just a couple miles  
down the road and got roaringly drunk. I'd never had whiskey before. Brad and I shared the  
bottle and I was plastered. The police pulled us over at about 2:30 that morning on the way back  
to the orphanage. Honest to God Hannibal, I didn't know that the car was stolen. Mike said it  
belonged to his friend, I had no reason not to believe him. I don't even remember all of the  
charges. I just remember the day in court for our sentencing, after we had been found guilty.   
Father Salvador told the judge that jail might help us to learn that there are consequences to  
breaking the law and felt the discipline would be good for us. Bastard was happy to get rid of  
us."  
  
Shaking his head with a smirk that was more a grimace than a smile Face finished off the  
cigarette, flicking the butt into a full ashtray. Hannibal didn't know what to say choosing instead  
to remain silent in the hopes that Face would continue.  
  
"Oh man, you wouldn't believe that place. The state had it to where thirteen to fifteen year olds  
were together and the sixteen to eighteen year olds were separated into their own section. Ya  
know, to protect the younger kids from getting beat up by the bigger ones? That was the state's  
version of segregation. We had our own brand. White kids hung out with white kids. Blacks,  
Hispanics, and even the Asians all had their own cliques. In the yard there was a definite color  
barrier. Beneath that was gang affiliation. Bloods and the Crips were always fighting amongst  
themselves in the black section. Same goes for the Diablos and the Kings between the Hispanics.   
Nobody messed with the Asians, those kids were fierce. There were a couple of times when the  
whole yard would erupt in a riot. Some white kid attacking a black or some Hispanic attacking a  
white. Then everybody would get involved."  
  
"First time I saw that was like my fifth day there. I decided that getting on the good side of the  
leaders was a must. A friend of mine Scott was still on the outside. He's the one who taught me  
how to hot-wire a car and I taught him how to pick a lock. We were tight and the only reason he  
didn't get busted with us was because he was with his girl that night. So I set it up between him  
and a guard to acquire things the other guys would want. For a fee the guard would look the  
other way when the laundry truck had an extra box of stuff. Everyone wanted cigarettes, comics,  
books, and posters. The guards looked the other way. From what I understand there was a near  
riot when they tried to crack down on the cigarettes. Scott and I made a fortune in there. So I  
got pretty popular and most people left me alone."  
  
Hannibal had given a rueful chuckle at the image of the kid as a teenager with a racket. He  
silently wondered if he had sold candy to the kids in elementary school too. The levity of the  
moment disappeared with the ugly scowl that now marred the handsome features of the conman.   
Face's voice trailed off at this point. At a loss for what to do with his hands he lit up another  
cigarette. He was well buzzed from the liquor and nicotine but sitting still was a physical  
impossibility at that moment.   
  
Taking a deep breath. "There was this one guard though." Pinching the bridge of his nose.   
"Hannibal, I don't think I can do this." 


	4. Final Chapter

The older man reached out, placing his hand on Peck's knee, shaken himself to feel the slight  
tremor run through his friend. "It's okay kid, you're doing great." Tipping his head to gain his  
protege's wandering eyes. "Look at me."  
  
Face tore his gaze from the burning cig in his hand, pulled in by the incredible blue of Hannibal's  
eyes. "There is nothing you can tell me that is going to change our friendship. What happened to  
you then is all part of the person in front of me now. The man who's my best friend. We're  
alright. You understand me?"  
  
Amazed, Face nodded his head.  
  
Smirking, "You believe me?"  
  
A quiet snort of laughter accompanied the, "Yeah," Face grabbed the hand that was resting on his  
knee, like they were going to arm wrestle, squeezing it in acknowledgment. Releasing the grip, he  
took a small sip of scotch, more to moisten his suddenly dry mouth, than to imbibe more alcohol.  
  
"Despite the fact that I was making money, juvie was a shitty place. There was this one guard  
who didn't like me at all. He knew there was an underground barter system. All the stuff that  
ended up in our cells had to come from somewhere and he knew that I had something to do with  
it, he could just never prove it. He worked the night shift on our block, nothing went on while the  
cells were locked down for the night. That didn't stop him though. He had keys to the whole cell  
block. Back then juvie wasn't all that full. Half the guys on my block didn't have cell mates. I  
didn't either. Some nights nothing happened. Some nights it did. I don't know why. For years I  
wondered if it was something I did or..."  
  
Dropping the still burning cigarette on the ground at his feet Face dug the heels of his palms into  
his eyes. "The first time it happened he dragged me out of the bunk from a dead sleep. One  
second I'm beneath the covers the next I feel his fist smash into my kidney. He was a fat bastard,  
who dwarfed me. I didn't have a chance. He turned me around landing a blow to my midsection  
driving all the air from my lungs. I fell to the ground gasping for breath. Then he smacked my  
head against the concrete floor. Not enough force to crack my skull or split the skin but definitely  
enough to make me dizzy and unable to defend myself. Next thing I know my shorts are down  
around my knees and his finger's inside me."  
  
Choking back tears and graphic memories Face lifted his bloodshot eyes from his hands to  
Hannibal. "I oh god...I can't...Hannibal...I can't..." His voice raw and cracking.  
  
Hannibal appears pasty white in the moonlight. He can feel the acid churn in his stomach and the  
bile rise in the back of his throat. The idea that someone could do that to a boy, this boy made  
him nauseous. Wanting to reach out, but not sure if physical contact would be welcome at this  
point, he struggled for words. He doesn't want to hear the graphic details anymore than Face  
wants to share them. "Easy kid. You don't have to say anymore, I understand." Slowly and so  
Face could see the action he reached out placing his hand back on that same left knee, trying to  
convey that Peck wasn't alone in this. "He...raped you?" Hannibal flinched at uttering that vile  
word.  
  
Face could only manage to nod at that point. All energy seemed to be focus on blocking the  
memories from his mind's eye and not throwing up all over the balcony.  
  
Horrified at the prospect, "This...this went on for six months?"  
  
Shaking his head, "No. After my fourth month there one of the new kids got ripped up. It  
became infected and he got ill. Couple of the other kids dragged him to the infirmary. The state  
appointed physician eventually figured it out. One night he just never came back. Everyone knew  
what happened. The warden hushed it up, but our whole block was stigmatized. Only good thing  
that meant was that everyone left us alone. Intellectually I know that nothing would happen to  
me in a military prison. There's far more supervision, structure, and a moral code, but cells dreg  
up memories and cause nightmares. I can't do twenty years. I'd get shot trying to escape before  
I lived like that again."  
  
Hannibal grabbed his hand, expressing his support in a more overt way. "I'm sorry. God  
kid...I...I wish that was enough. I wish I could fix this for you and make it all go away. If that  
son of a bitch was in front of me right now I'd kill him with my bare hands." Sighing, "The only  
thing I can do is be here to help in any way you'll let me." He's silent for a minute before  
continuing on in a hushed tone. "I want to say nothing's changed but that would be a lie."  
  
Face gets this stricken look across his visage.  
  
With a deadly serious gaze in his burning blue eyes. "I've always respected you Face, but quite  
frankly I'm amazed you're not some serial killer or street thug. You're an exceptional young man  
and I'm more honored than ever to call you my friend. Thank you for your trust. It means more  
than I can express." Face sagged back into his chair the stress and fear of this destroying  
everything finally evaporating. "And Face I promise...I swear to you that I will never allow you  
to rot in jail for the rest of your life. Regardless of what is required, as long as I'm alive, know  
that I will be there for you and get you out. No matter the cost."  
  
His grip remained steadfast as Face shuddered out some shaky breaths. Not sure if he was  
capable of anything other than being dragged to bed, Hannibal decided it was well past time to  
call it a night. They could talk more in the morning if necessary, but the kid appeared exhausted  
and sleep was the only viable option for now.  
  
"Come mere." Hannibal gruffly called, tugging on that same hand he had yet to release.  
  
Face opened bleary eyes, reluctantly allowing himself to be hoisted out of his chair, only to be  
pulled into a bear hug of warmth and affection. The last of the tension draining from his limbs,  
Face buried his head into Hannibal's shoulder. "I gotcha kid, and I'm not letting go." Ruffling  
his hair, Hannibal kept one arm around Face as he led him into the condo, pushing him toward the  
master bedroom. Minutes later Face was passed out in the bed and John was getting comfortable  
on the couch nearby, in case he was needed during the night.  
  
It wasn't perfect. Hannibal didn't know when he'd be able to close his eyes and not see some  
younger version of the kid being assaulted, but their bond was even stronger now and that would  
last far longer than the nightmares.  
  
  
The End 


End file.
